Runaway Love
by Cloudy eyed goddess
Summary: No real summary....just a fanfiction based off of the song 'Runaway Love' by Ludacris it follows the lives of three innocent little girls and their everyday struggles for freedom from horrible family conditions.


**A/N:**_** Hello! This is C.e.G. here, putting out the first of three one-shot drabbles!**_

_**I've been working on this for a while, and was iffy on whether or not I should publish it. I figured, "I worked hard on it, might as well." so that explains why this strange piece of doo-doo is running around free on the internet.**_

_**More about the story…okay…uh…sometime last year, I was completely obsessed with the song, 'Runaway Love' by Ludacris and listened to it a lot and thought up a plot line involving the three gals of the famous Kingdom Hearts series. The only problem was that I was trying to keep with the lyrics and well, they said that the girls were a certain age (9, 10, and 11).**_

_**Long story short, there is some romance in here…but it's kind of…pedophilic. In this one at least. The other two, eh, not so much.**_

_**I hope you enjoy this. I did have some fun while writing it!!**_

**Disclaimer: **_**C.e.G. claims no ownership to any of N. Tetsuya's characters…no matter how much she tries to.**_

**Warnings: **_**Nothing really other than what I've mentioned before about this being a piece of doo-doo and the tiny bit of pedophilistic-ness this fiction has in it. Oh and there might be some parts that don't make any sense, please just ignore those, thank you.**_

**Summary: **_**Runaway Love, Poisoned Innocence is centered around little nine-year old Naminè and her life at home. Based entirely off of the song, 'Runaway Love' by Ludacris.**_

_**-o-o-o-o-o-**_

**Runaway Love**

**Poisoned Innocence (Naminè)**

"_Yeah…and it go a lil somethin'- e-erah-"_

_("Like this!")_

"_Runaway Love…"_

"_Runaway Love…"_

"_Runaway Love…"_

"_Runaway Love…"_

"_Runaway Love…"_

"_Runaway Love…"_

"_Runaway Love…"_

"_Runaway Love…"_

_**-o-o-o-o-o-**_

**Now little Naminè's only 9 years old.**

**She's tryin' to figure out why the world is so cold-**

**Why she's all alone and they never met her family;**

**Mamas always gone and she never met her daddy.**

**-o-o-**

For as long as Naminè could remember, her family was a broken one-- a welfare-dependent, alcoholic, drug-abusive, violent, foul-mouthed mother barely surviving (if that's what you could call their current living status) along side her daughter, a not-here father, her runaway blood-brother, and a few dead/never-met half-siblings. This was what she grew up with, and this is what she expected for the rest of her life.

Naminè was always a well-mannered girl who knew the saying, "Beggars can't be choosers" all too well. She was content with anything she was given and thanked the person properly for their assistance.

It wasn't until one day, when she was walking home from playing at the park, that she was spotted by a couple of boys who followed her down the street and to her home. Naminè had made it up to her broken down front porch and turned around, scowling at the trespassers. The boys following her only grinned at her and cackled. "I thought she was pretty cute but damn! Look at where she lives! What a fuckin' broke-ass bitch!"

"Yeah!" The other, taller boy agreed. "Hey! Aren't you supposed to be out on the streets workin' right now, you whore?! Or did you need to come back home to pick up some condoms!?"

"What're you talking about, Gen? Prostitutes don't believe in protection!"

Both of the boys laughed and laughed, picking up some spare rocks and chucking them in Naminè's direction, one hitting her on the forehead and the other just missing her right arm. Naminè stood there, taking the abuse and wincing at the pain it caused until the twisted souls decided she wasn't fun to throw things at anymore and ran off to bother some other poor person.

"Why?" She asked no one, bowing her head and staring at her unclothed feet. "Why?" Her dirty, bleach-blonde hair fell around her face, hiding it from the world and shadowing it from the porch's single shining light bulb. It was then that she bolted off the porch- across the street and into a dark alley. She ran and ran from alley way to alley way until she couldn't run anymore.

Panting, she looked up and took a peek at her surroundings-- a few rotten-smelling dumpsters, some trash cans, and random rubbish and stray animals littered the place. There was but one beam of light piercing through the other wise dark alley. Naminè walked over to the area that was in the light and took a seat next to a trash can, resting her head on it. Her legs were folded off to her right side and her hands were placed on the dirty ground; her face was relaxed for a moment before she burst out into tears.

"Why?! Why is the world so cold?!"

_Because it doesn't know how to be warm._

"Why does everything bad happen to me?!"

_Because the world doesn't want me._

"What did I do to deserve this?!"

_Everything._

"Why can't I be happy?!"

_Because no one wants me to be._

"Why can't I have a normal life?!"

_There is no such thing as normal. I've gotta take what I've been given- beggars can't be choosers._

"Why?!"

_That's my only choice._

"Why?!"

_Because that's just the way it is._

"Why?!"

_No one knows._

Naminè continued to yell-- scream-- shout-- out her questions and in her mind, the depressed, sympathetic side of her answered them, telling her the horrible but very true reality of the situation in a soft voice.

She stayed there for an hour or so, just screeching her heart out and emptying her stomach and crying her blistering hot tears; she drained herself completely of all feelings, thoughts, and stamina and eventually fell asleep in the alley, clutching onto her filthy, beaten white sun dress for dear life. For _a _dear life.

"Please…"

**-o-o-**

**Part of her is missin' and nobody'll listen.**

**Mama's on drugs, gettin' high up in the kitchen,**

**Bringin' home men at different hours of the night,**

**Startin' with some laughs-- usually endin' in a fight.**

**-o-o-**

"Where the hell have you been?!" A ferocious looking woman shrieked, smacking Naminè across the face. Naminè stood there and took it, willing herself not to cry. _It'll only make things worse…_

Her mother stared at her for a second before scoffing, shoving her out of her way. The nine-year-old thudded against the wall, sinking to the ground, too weak to stand. "Whatever. Just stay the fuck out of sight tonight-- I have a guest coming over and I don't need him to be chased off because of my stupid little leech of a child hanging around the house." She turned with a flare, walking back into the kitchen from where she originally appeared.

Naminè let out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding and shook her head, rising to her feet and dusting off her clothing. Not that it made her look any different but it was the thought that counted.

The blonde girl sighed- why was it she was always forced to disappear every single time her mother had a man come over? Naminè knew that it'd be portraying a bad image if she were to be discovered by the guy since no man in this poor little town would be caught dead dating a woman who had a kid or two. But still, she didn't understand why she couldn't even be in the _house_. It was one thing to stay cooped up in her dim room all night, listening to her mother and the stranger experience their climax's (at least she'd be inside) but it was another to stay out in the cold, unforgiving darkness of the Red Zone's streets. Out there, anything could happen to her.

_She obviously doesn't care… _Naminè thought, sighing again and heading for her room. She tiptoed quietly when she approached the hole in the wall that led into the kitchen. She slowed to a stop and watched with shock as she witnessed her mother tap a needle, then a vein-y area on her arm.

Her mother was sitting on the kitchen counter, back turned ¾ of the way to her with her head bowed. She seemed to be concentrating intensely on the task at hand: injecting the poison in the tube into her system.

After what seemed like an eternity, Naminè decided she didn't want to watch her mother take hit after hit of the vile drug and began her journey to her room again. Shortly after she began, she had reached her room, walking in it and grabbing what little bit of clothing and saved change she had. _Just in case…everything is just in case…_ Her mind chanted as she pulled on a shredded pair of blue jeans and a torn up jacket. She was told that they belonged to her older brother, Roxas. She never did get to know him real well; he was around until she turned seven. It was then that he "mysteriously" disappeared.

Truth was, he left home one night and never came back. No one tried to look for him. No one cared. He was merely forgotten by those who knew him and wasn't missed by those who were close to him.

_I wonder if it'd be the same if I went away and never returned…_

Even though the siblings barely were around each other, Naminè loved her older brother with a passion and wished he'd return soon. She hated being alone like this. Always having to fend off the bullies, rapists, and their mother. Roxas used to do that for her. But not anymore.

_At least he got out-- got away. I'm glad he did. He was hurting more than me._

**xxx**

Naminè was sitting in her room again, after going outside and being scared back in. She snuck in through her bedroom window (_Like Mom would open the door for me…_) and kept quiet, making sure not to alert anyone of her presence. Who knew what would happen?

"Bastards," Her thin, pink lips mouthed, the hint of an angelic voice escaping her. "Chasing me in the dark. They had no reason to do that. I was so frightened." She sniffled, curling up into a ball and crying. Her weak sobs were heard by someone….

_Shit._

"Ish? What was that?" A manly voice questioned. It was sort of garbled due to her door, but she was able to make out the rest of their small exchange.

"What was what?" Her mom.

"I thought I heard somethin' commin' from here…" The sound of muffled footsteps grew closer and closer until they were right in front of Naminè's door. Naminè froze, trying to burry herself as far into the corner between her bookcase and her bed as possible. She almost had a heart attack when she saw the knob turn and the door crack open a tad. She steeled herself, holding her breath and not moving an inch.

The intruding man peered in, scanning the room for any signs of life. When his eyes met those of a lithe, pale, beautiful girl's light blue ones, he cracked a smiled and opened the door enough to allow himself into the teeny room and closed it shortly afterwards. He crossed the short distance and kneeled in front of her, offering her a charming grin and his hand. "Hi there."

Naminè said nothing. She simply scowled at the man.

"What're you doing here?"

Again, she said nothing.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

She grunted.

"Fine by me, I could sit here and talk at you all day."

Her scowl deepened.

"Does that mean you don't want me to?"

Naminè nodded, letting go of the breath she had been holding for quite some time. The man chuckled, waving the extended hand at her. "I'm sorry."

Her scowl softened a bit.

"My name is Marluxia. What's yours?"

Naminè thought for a second. Would it be wise to tell this man her name? _Not like it'll make a difference in my life…_ "Naminè."

"Naminè, huh? Wow! What a very pretty name for a very pretty girl." He chuckled, snaking his hand in one of her fisted ones. Naminè fought down a blush. As well as the urge to vomit. It was nice that someone was pointing out her good looks in a nice way- it felt really, really good!- but this man looked so much older than her! Not to mention, he's seeing her mother! "Naminè," He mumbled, moving closer to the girl. Said girl simply locked eyes with Marluxia and tilted her head in question. "Are you Ish's daughter?"

Without thinking, Naminè nodded.

"I thought so. You don't look much like her, but its your attitude that the two of you seem to share."

Naminè scoffed, forcing down the nasty retort she came so close to uttering.

"So, do you have a boyfriend?"

"What?"

"I asked you if you had a boyfriend."

"N-no. I'm only nine…"

"So? You could still have one."

The blush from before forced its way onto her cheeks, staining them with patches of light pink. "W-weh-well I don't…"

"Okay." Marluxia shrugged, scooting next to Naminè and taking a seat. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and played with her hair, twisting it around his finger again and again. "I was just a-"

"Aren't you supposed to be out there with my mother?"

"Huh?" Marluxia seemed to have forgotten all about his current date and groaned at having finally remembered her. "Oh yeah. Well, you're mom's a nice lady but-"

"You don't have to lie."

"Say what now?"

"You don't have to lie. I know you don't really like my mom and that you'd rather not be seen with her. You only needed her company for when you felt useless. You didn't want to become attached. But she attached herself to you and now won't let you go. I know how it goes. I understand. She got you with the whole," She smirked, copying one of her mother's famous moves. She relaxed her body and folded her feet off to the side, placing a hand on her chest and one on Marluxia's thigh, stroking up it gently as she batted her eyelashes and whispered in a seductive tone, "I'm not as innocent as I seem."

Marluxia was stunned for a second. That second was all it took for Naminè to get up and move away. She giggled as she retrieved a book from her shelf and sat on her bed, making herself comfy as she began reading. "Don't act so shocked. I've seen her do it a thousand times. I've got pretty much every single one of her cheesy lines memorized."

Before Marluxia had a chance to respond, her heard someone calling for him. More specifically, Naminè's mother, Ish. "Marluxia!! Where are you? The food is ready!!"

"Damn," Naminè giggled again, turning the page of her book. Marluxia stood and dusted himself off, watching the nine-year-old intently before she finally caught on and told him that staring was rude. He instantly looked away and blushed, clearing his throat.

Naminè placed a finger on the line she was on and looked up at him skeptically. "What?"

"Do you mind if I read to you?"

"Yes. I do."

"May I please read to you?" He begged.

"Why?"

"In all honesty, what you said about your mother was right. And I-I don't wanna go back out there."

Naminè studied him for a second before she scooted over, patting the spot next to her and handing the book off to the man once he had taken his seat. "Fine. But only for a little bit. And don't be too loud, I'm not supposed to be here."

Marluxia nodded, continuing from where Naminè had left off. "The furious Fairy, with an eerie screech, unrolled an old scroll and started her speech:" At this point, Marluxia grinned a silly grin and read the Wicked Fairy's lines in a grumpy, crackly voice that one would not want to hear come out of a man as gorgeous as him. "To the King and Queen, my greetings cold, when Princess Throne Rose is fifteen years old, she'll follow the strains of a mysterious tune and discover a spinning wheel in an old room; she'll prick her thumb and fall in a swoon and be a dead Princess by the rise of the moon!" Naminè- despite herself- began to chuckle at the weirdness of her mother's current captive. _He's not all that bad…if Mom doesn't want him then- no. He's too old. I can't. Stop Naminè. Don't be like your mother. That's not the life you want._

"Naminè?"

"Hm?" She stared up at the man addressing her, watching the way his eyes followed her eyes' movements.

"I-I was wondering if you wouldn't mind hanging out with me more…"

"Why? Have you become attached? And so soon?" She smirked, moving to grab the book from Marluxia's limp hands. However, her hand never even touched the page. Instead, Marluxia had grabbed her hand and brought it up to his face, stroking it gently along his cheek.

"I'm afraid I have." He answered.

Naminè couldn't believe what she was hearing! Not only was someone falling for her, but it was someone way too old (in her opinion) to be doing something so reckless in the first place! "B-but why would you want to become attached to someone as poor, trashy, inexperienced, half-way-to-being-legal, and ugly as me? There are plenty of other girls out there- both adolescent and older! Why me?"

He frowned slightly, thinking of a response to her question. "Because you need someone trustworthy in your life. You need someone you can depend upon. I can tell." Naminè broke their intense staring contest and looked to the ground, blushing at the serious tone Marluxia was taking on. He wouldn't stand for this though- even if it did look cute. "Look at me," he whispered, grabbing her chin gently, making her face him once again. Light blue eyes locked with amber ones, witnessing the intoxicating mixtures of light and dark splotches in his irises dance. She sighed. "I would want to attach myself to someone who I think was given a bad start, who's a very proper young lady that was put into a horrible situation. I'd want to help someone who's so beautiful and yet, so abused. Someone who's scarred and needs help. I want to help you because I look at you and I see you struggle to help yourself. I just want you to get what you want quicker. I'd attach myself to someone who I want to help, help themselves. Do you understand."

_Yes._ "No."

Marluxia chuckled, brushing back some of her hair. "Guess that was too complicated. Uh...I want to see you happy. And the only way to assure I get what I want, is for me to help the cause."

A pale, frail hand was brought to warm, pink lips that stroked it gently before leaving as quickly as it came; the strong hand holding onto the pale one let it go slowly, guiding it back down to the bed top before leaving it completely and retreating back to its owner's lap. Pale blue never left amber. Hands glowed with the warmth leaving them due to the disappearance of the source of said warmth. A pair of lips tingled from the chaste kiss it had shared with the other's hand while said other's lips tingled from imagining what it would be like to have been the hand.

The moment was perfect. Blissful. Content.

_I've got to make him stay! _"Marlux-"

"MARLUXIA!!" Ish shrieked, charging into the room and snatching the book out of his hands. It was thrown to the floor as was its owner shortly afterwards. Ish smacked Naminè around a bit, yelling at her for being in the house and for trying to steal her man (when Naminè _so_ was not meaning to). She topped it all off with a kick to the beaten child's stomach.

As Naminè lay there on the carpeted floor, Ish grabbed Marluxia's hand and tugged him out the door, not regretting a single thing she had done to her daughter. Marluxia, on the other hand, was plagued with the image of what he had just witnessed. He was horrified! He was shocked! He was angry!

How could a child so sweet be taken advantage of by a madwoman like this!?

Marluxia struggled in Ish's grip and when he eventually freed himself, he glared at her, yelling about how cruel she was and such. Ish yelled back, telling him it was none of his business how she treated her child. The two of them kept on bickering back and forth until Marluxia grew tired of it and stormed out.

Ish screamed at the closed door as if it were the man who had just walked out on her; she later drowned her sorrows in some booze, went out, picked up another guy, and let him have his way with her.

**-o-o-**

**Sneakin' in her room while her mama's knocked out,**

**Tryin to have his way and little Naminè says, "Ouch,"**

**She tries to resist but then all he does is beat her;**

**Tries to tell her mom but her mama don't believe her.**

**-o-o-**

"Nygh…" Naminè groaned, rolling around on her back. Her head hurt, her back ached, and the room was spinning. She had tried to get to her feet earlier, but was then knocked back down by some unknown force of nature. Most likely a dizzy spell.

Naminè decided it'd be best if she didn't try to get up for a little while- or at least until the twirling stopped.

"God," She breathed, placing her slacking hands on her cheeks and searching her facial features from there. Naminè felt no blood, no cuts, no tender spots (okay, there were a couple but they weren't all that serious), or any other facial injury she might've suffered. "I wanna puke…"

**xxx**

An hour had pasted since Naminè had woken up. She was over the extreme dizzy spell, but was still feeling sore and drained. So, with nothing in her room to cure her pains, she snuck out and into the bathroom, searching the cabinet quietly for some pills she had remembered Ish taking when she was suffering from a severe headache or hangover or both. "I think these were the ones," Naminè mumbled to herself, opening the bottle (_So much for being child proof. I think its just stupid children proof._) and poured a single blue and white pill into her small hand. She clutched it tightly in said hand and ran silent as a ninja to the kitchen, fetched herself a glass of water, took the pill, and crept back to her room.

Sitting on her bed, the blonde girl grinned to herself, proud of her mad skillz at being stealthy when she heard her door creak open.

Naminè turned towards it, watching it in silent fear as a figure slunk into her room, closing the door softly behind them. "Hello there, Youngin'. And how are you this fine evening?" The figure asked as they walked over to her bed. Naminè froze and gasped, feeling her bed sink as the new, unwanted weight sat itself onto it. "Go away…" Her response was barely above a whisper but the stranger still heard it.

"Why?"

"I don't want you here."

"But I want to be here."

"I don't care. Leave. Now."

"How about…" The stranger began, titling his head up and bringing a hand up to his chin in mock deliberation before he chuckled and eyed Naminè like she was a piece of meat. "No?"

Shortly after he uttered that single word, he was on top of her, ripping at her already tattered clothing and licking and kissing any spot available to him. Naminè fought against him the best she could but a nine-year-old can only do so much against a man she assumed to be at least 35.

"Ouch! Stop!" She shrieked, kicking as hard as she could when the man began to pull down her jeans. "Stop it now! Get away! No!" She squeezed her eyes shut and kicked. And kicked. And kicked uncontrollably until she finally felt her foot connect with something flesh-like. She opened one eye, then the other, and stared at the man with the shocked expression. She had kicked him in the face. And he was bleeding.

"You little bitch!" He growled, reaching out and grabbing himself a fist-full of the dirty, pale blonde hair belonging to the girl. He yanked at it a couple times, forcing her into a kneeling position before he released her hair and smacked her. Hard.

The little girl cried out, clutching the side of her face as it burned and bled. The man before her smirked sadistically, reaching for her hair once more and pulling her into the same position as before, striking her again- harder this time. He repeated this process until it finally hurt him to hurt her.

"You're lucky my hand hurts you little tramp, otherwise you'd be feeling it. Now, here's what we're going to do. You're going to forget this ever happened, got it? You're not going to say anything to Ish, okay? You're going to let me come in here every night, do what I need to do to you to get the nasty ass feel of your whore of a mother off of me, and you're not going to fight me or tell anyone. Understand?"

Naminè scowled. "…"

He slapped her again. "Goddamn it! Do you understand me?!"

Her scowl merely deepened.

The man yanked at her hair, pulling her a few centimeters off of the bed by her ashen gold locks. She screamed, feeling the blood already begin to gather at the roots of her hair. "UNDERSTAND!?"

"Yes!" She groaned, panting heavily and clutching her wounded head once the man had let her back down onto her knees. He growled again and pushed her, knocking her back onto her bed and left, slamming the door behind him.

Naminè laid there, whimpering in pain. She stroked her injured head, trying to soothe herself. Her efforts were in vain.

"Its okay, Naminè. Everything's okay. You don't need to cry because there's nothing wrong because everything's okay. It's okay Nam. It's okay." She chanted.

But she knew better. She knew nothing was okay.

_Why? I just wanted to be…safe. I want to know what that feels like…safety…_

At the thought of that one word- safety- Naminè remembered feeling that way with someone. With only one person after the disappearance of her brother. She had felt it with Marluxia. The man she had only met and was already obsessing over. She wished he was here so he could see her- broken, tattered, bleeding. She wanted him here so he could fix her. She wanted him to come save her. To bring her to safety.

_That's all I want. That's all I've ever wanted…_

**xxx**

"Marluxia,"

"Yeah?"

"Can I…talk to you?" Naminè asked shyly, toeing the ground. She stood in front of her scowling mother and her grinning crush who were watching television until she had entered the room and pestered Marluxia into paying attention to her. She literally had to work to gain the pink haired man's attention away from the TV screen (its not like they were watching anything interesting. It was just an infomercial.) but once she had…once his amber orbs were staring at her with their compassion-dipped goodness, she thought better of her plan to, 'be straight forward, tell him, and ask for his help.'

Marluxia flashed her a thankful grin and nodded, scooting over to make room for the blonde girl to sit. He patted the small space (he didn't make it very big for a reason…) next to him and spoke. "Sure. What's up?"

Naminè fidgeted. She wanted to tell him so badly, but she didn't want to do it in front of Ish! Who knows what would happen to her if she did!? "I'd rather talk to you about it someplace else…" She coughed.

Marluxia shrugged, lifting himself up off the couch and stretched, showing off the rim of his boxers and a patch of sun kissed skin. "Whatever floats your boat, Kiddo." He chuckled. Marluxia's hand found its way into Naminè's hair and tangled itself in it as the two of them exited the front door, walking down the street in strained silence towards the same park she had been at a few weeks before. The two of them walked across the make-shift playground, to the one structure that wasn't made by the leftovers of those wealthier than them, the swing set.

Naminè took a seat on a red one, swinging her legs back and forth gently. Marluxia smiled. He crept up behind her and grabbed onto the chains holding the plastic seat in suspension. His chin grew comfortable in its current hideout- the junction between her neck and shoulder. He chuckled when he felt her shiver when he spoke into her ear. "So? Are you going to talk to me or not?"

Naminè searched her mind for a second or two before shrugging his chin off of her and turned slightly, gazing into the comforting amber that were her crush's eyes. "I…this man…he did th-things…"

At this Marluxia's smile faded. "What?"

"He touched me and…did other things too…I-I couldn't- he wouldn't-!" She paused, bringing her hands to her face. She cried; her pale hands caught the crystal-like tears falling from depressed, burdened pale blue eyes. The same eyes that have seen so much, overlooked too much, hidden everything, and expressed nothing. The same eyes that Marluxia loved to get lost in. Those were the eyes that were filled with pain. Pain was one of the things not allowed to scar her pretty, pretty eyes. "…He wouldn't stop…"

Marluxia gripped the metal chains of the swing harder than he had meant to; he was shaking with fury and was on the verge of crying- he was so angry! Angry at the man who dared to touch _his_ precious, angry at the mother who seemed to have no idea about any of this…or did, but ignored it. He was angry at Naminè for not telling him sooner. But most of all, he was angry at himself, for not realizing something was terribly wrong with the girl. It did explain why she never looked him in the eye anymore and why she never wanted him to visit her or to enter her room where- he assumed- it had happened. It all made sense now. And that was pissing him off. It made sense at the last minute- when the damage had already been done. He had no one to blame besides himself for allowing this…filth to stain his beauty's innocence. To poison it.

"Naminè," He began, shaking his head clear of all thoughts. He didn't want to think of things as upsetting as those at the moment. He had to take care of Naminè. "Naminè," He said again. The sniveling girl looked up into his eyes, mouthing, "What?"

"Let's get you out of here."

"But I can't leave. Who knows what'll happen?"

"Yeah but, Naminè," He let go of the chains and walked around to the front of the girl, his eyes never leaving hers. "You need to get away."

"I know." She admitted. "But I can't- I've been on my own in this cruel world ever since my brother left me- I don't know how to function by myself very well! That's why things like this happen! That's why I can't leave. Because if I did…"

"If you did?" Marluxia asked, kneeling down and cupping her cheeks in his hands.

"If I did, then I wouldn't survive."

**xxx**

It was dark…around ten o'clock if Naminè had to guess.

Outside of her house a lone figure leaned against a parked car that was positioned directly underneath the only street lap on the block, taking a long drag of a cigarette, waiting patiently for something. Someone.

_"Just grab some clothes, whatever else you might need, and run- run out your front door. I'll be there, waiting for you. I'll help you escape. I'll help you find your brother. I'll help you learn to survive. All you have to do is make the first move- just run and I'll follow."_

"Just run and he'll follow…" A nine-year-old girl reassured herself, remembering the words that her crush had spoken to her that afternoon in the park. She had on a pair of worn out jeans and a shredded jacket that was in worse condition than it had been when she had originally found it. _Its because of that man. Do you want this to happen again?_ Dirty blonde locks of hair swayed as the girl shook her head in response to her inner her, finding the last of her things (not like she had much anyway) and tucking them away in the blue and black backpack belonging to Roxas, her older brother.

She didn't look much like a girl anymore; her soiled white sundress was covered by the equally dirty, holey jacket, her pale, thin feminine legs had been encased in a pair of ripped, old jeans that were frayed at the ends. Her hair was currently being tied into a low pony tail and an aged, grimy baseball cap was placed on her head- backwards. "That's how Roxas used to wear it." She reminded herself, smiling into the darkness.

"I'm getting out of here."

With that said, she picked up the backpack, heaved it onto her shoulders, and tiptoed out of her room, past the kitchen where her mother would still be doing drugs even after Naminè had gone, past the living room where she had approached Marluxia and asked for help, and out the front door; she stood on the front porch- the exact same way she had when those mean boys had called her a broke-ass bitch, a whore, a prostitute- and looked hopefully out into the silent night, searching for the man that she had become infatuated with despite how often she told herself not to.

She spotted him almost immediately- his pink hair wasn't the most non-noticeable color out there- and jumped over the few steps there were leading up to the porch, catching herself before she fell, and bolted across the street and into the strong, lithe arms of her savior. "Marluxia!" She whispered gleefully.

"Hey there, Kiddo. Ready to go?"

"Yes. I'm ready."

"Good." He chuckled, patting her capped head. "Then let's get going."

Naminè smiled and nodded, bouncing happily to the passenger side and let herself in, closing the door and buckling up quickly. Marluxia sighed and shook his head. He got in the driver's seat, grabbed Naminè's bag from her lap, and threw it in the back. "Here we go." He started the car and they were off, driving down the bleak road out into the country side where there were no lights, and the darkness consumed everything. But not in a bad way, like in the Red Zone, but in a wonderful, peaceful way.

The blonde girl sighed, resting her head against the cold glass of the window and gazed out of it, watching the beautiful scenery pass them by. "Its so pretty."

"Yeah, it is." Marluxia agreed.

They rode in content silence for another ten minutes or so before the older of the two spoke up, voicing a question he'd had on his mind for a while. "Hey, Naminè?"

"Yes?"

"If we don't find your brother, will you…stay with me?"

She peered at him through the corners of her eyes, never moving her head from its spot on the window. "Why?"

"Let's just say," He smirked, casting a sidelong glance at Naminè before he focused back on the road. "I became attached."

Naminè smiled, closing her eyes. She suddenly felt extremely tired. "Of course," Tears escaped their prison and journeyed down her cheeks and into the dips of her mouth. "I'd like that."

"Great."

"Yeah…" The little girl sniffled, breaking her trance-like state by wiping at her face with her sleeve. Marluxia chuckled and reached blindly into the glove compartment, pulling out a couple napkins for her to use. "Here."

"Thanks," Said Naminè, carefully taking the soft paper from his hands. She blew her nose with one and cleaned off her face the best she could with the other. Her eyes glanced at her reflection in the side-view mirror and saw that around her eyes and in wavy lines rolling down her cheeks, it was clean. A gasp sounded and Naminè immediately began licking the napkin, rubbing at the dirtiest spots on her face. She stared in awe as she saw what Marluxia must've seen when he had called her a 'beautiful girl'. She, for once in her life, saw how pretty she looked; her pale blue eyes trailed over to Marluxia. The man gave her a questioning look out of the corners of his eyes before he noticed how much…cleaner her face looked. He smiled and reached over to ruffle Naminè's hair, enjoying the way she giggled like the little girl she was and the content purrs vibrating through her throat. "Beautiful, Naminè…" He murmured to himself, though Naminè had heard him.

"You know," Marluxi cleared his throat, focusing once again on driving. "Even if you'd have said 'no', I would've still made you. I don't want you to ever have to go back there again."

Naminè gave him an appreciative smile as she felt a weight being completely removed from her head. The seat squeaked under her as she sat up and threw herself backwards, slamming into the seat and rolling onto her side to watch Marluxia drive. She curled up into a small ball and nodded, letting go of all of her pain, her hurt, her suffering, in one breath-- with one sentence. "I don't ever want to go back, either."

**-o-o-**

**Naminè's stuck up in the world on her own,**

**Forced to think that hell is a place called home.**

**Nothin' else to do but get some clothes and pack-**

**She says she's 'bout to run away and never come back.**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-**_

"_Runaway Love…"_

"_Runaway Love…"_

"_Runaway Love…"_

"_Runaway Love…"_

"_Runaway Love…"_

"_Runaway Love…"_

"_Runaway Love…"_

"_Runaway Love…"_

_**-o-o-o-o-o-**_

**A/N: **_**So yeah, what do you guys think? The next installment will be a completely different tale, but it still follows the song so tune in next time for it'll be Kairi and lil' Selphie's turn!**_


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